


The Pearl is the Gem of Queens

by QuinsValoria



Series: Mafia Princess AU [1]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: BAMF Sawada Nana, BAMF Sawada Tsunayoshi, Cloudy Mist Nana Sawada, Different Vongola Guardians (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Fem Tsuna grows up a Mafia Princess, Female Sawada Tsunayoshi, Female Sawada Tsunayoshi is named Masako, Flame Harmonization (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Flame Lore (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), No Beta we die like my last functional brain cell, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parental Kidnapping, References to Drugs, Sawada Nana is different to canon, Sexism, Trauma, Tsuna is taken to italy instead of Sealed, am i projecting? yes. do i care? lmao no., no really, some general douchbaggery on the part of adults who should know better
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:54:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25930921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuinsValoria/pseuds/QuinsValoria
Summary: A legitimate male Sky is the kind of threat that can topple a dynasty. AfemaleSky however, well, that's an opportunity.ORTimoteo makes a different call. Instead of Sealing the Young Lion's son, he steals away his daughter.
Relationships: Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Sawada Nana & Sawada Tsunayoshi, Sawada Tsunayoshi & Hibari Kyoya, Sawada Tsunayoshi & Vongola Tenth Generation Guardians, Sawada Tsunayoshi & Xanxus
Series: Mafia Princess AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1881937
Comments: 80
Kudos: 404





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was working on my KHR/Ajin fic when this one came out of nowhere and beaned me between the eyes. Enjoy i guess??
> 
> **TW: Child Abduction and Parental Kidnapping**

“How about Saigo?” he asks. “It’s the name of Tokugawa Ieyasu’s ruling consort, so it still fits the tradition. Or maybe Kasuga, after _Kasuga no Tsubone_?”

Nana laughs a little, stroking her new daughter’s cheek as she nurses thirstily. They had been surprised by a little girl rather than a boy, so the prepared name “Tsunayoshi” was a little too masculine for her tastes.

“So old-fashioned!” she teases. “She’d never forgive us.”

He hummed thoughtfully. 

“Tsuruhime maybe?”

“Doesn’t suit her,” she decides after a second, studying the infant. Then-

“What about Masako?” she offers. “After the only female shogun. It’s not quite on theme but-”

“I like it,” he declares, nodding with finality. “Sawada Masako, it works.”

He steps out to speak to a nurse and Sawada Nana presses a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. She yawns widely in response.

“That man,” she clucks, exasperated, “ _Concubines and wet nurses_ , as if you are not worth as much as any Shogun.”

“You and me, Macchan,” she whispers conspiratorially. “We know better, don’t we?”

The baby gurgles agreeably.

.

Baby Masako is as cheerful and agreeable as so young a girl can be, spending much more of her day blowing bubbles and wiggling than crying, and even more of it sleeping. She doesn’t scream often, softly whimpering when distressed and quieting almost as soon as her mother picks her up.

“It could do you to be at least a little more disagreeable, Macchan,” Nana scolds affectionately the third time she sits in a wet diaper instead of letting her mother know she’s needed. “How can I know if you don’t speak up?”

She behaves so well indeed that at three months after, when Nana is well and truly recovered, she sends Iemitsu off back to work with a smile.

“Us girls will do _just_ fine by ourselves for a while,” she says, Masako held against her chest. “It’s better if we save Papa’s Paternity Leave so he can come back this summer when Macchan starts crawling, _ne_? It’s good enough that he could be here for New Years.”

“You’re sure?” He asks, but she can tell he’s ready to go. Her husband has always been a little flighty and marriage has not changed that. It’s fine though, she has always believed that a little distance part of the time means a more harmonious marriage when together. Plus, she has never quite gotten used to sharing a bed full time and the extra space to starfish at night is _glorious._

“Very sure!” she agrees, “If I need help I can always ask Mei Lin, I’ve certainly helped her out with Kyoya.”

“Ah yes, ‘Help’,” he teases and she swats him. He laughs on his way out.

“Call me when you get back!” she calls after him, leaning on the doorframe.

“Hai, hai!”

They both know he won’t.

.

Okay, so she slightly underestimated the difficulty of taking care of a baby all by herself, but that doesn’t mean much, really.

She had made it through perennial tearing, urinary incontinence, and literally _bleeding from the tit,_ so the extra kicking during diaper changes and fussing over the first tooth is small potatoes, comparatively.

And when she _does_ get a little frazzled all she has to do is go to Mei Lin and drop Masako in her lap. Kyoya is getting big enough that he would rather go play by himself in his playroom than cuddle - and really hadn’t been much of a cuddler in the first place - that Masako’s toddler hugs and gummy smile were always well received.

To their combined relief, the children seem to get along well, with Kyoya seeming to decide on his own that Masako is not for biting and Masako deciding that Kyoya is as good as furniture. 

Co-existence is good enough for now, they can always encourage the two once Masako is older.

Thus, when Iemitsu comes to spend a month with them that summer there are no problems, and she is almost glad to see him leave again.

It’s in that way that several years pass, with Iemitsu flitting in and out of their lives, first for weeks, then spare days at a time, then only seeing each other a few times a year.

Masako and Kyoya learn to coexist, then even like each other somewhat once Masako is big enough. 

There had been one small incident where Masako had been following Kyokya and he had gotten tired of it, whacking her with his toy tonfas, but evidently, her tears were enough to convince him not to do it again and he (mostly) put up with the occasional duckling impression with grace.

Soon Masako turns five to Kyoya’s seven, and it is just one more year until she starts school. Some of the other parents had already started, putting the kids in kindergarten a year or two earlier but she decided against it, hoping to spend as much time as possible with her daughter before letting her go.

Kyoya has solemnly sworn to bite anyone who upsets her to death, which is both adorable and probably a bit concerning.

Iemitsu isn’t able to get time off for her birthday but swears to make up the time that summer.

They end up having a little sort of party with just the four of them, Nana making Salsbury Steak for dinner and Mei Lin buying a big chocolate cake and staying far away from the kitchen. 

It’s better for everyone’s sake. She hasn’t _accidentally_ poisoned anyone since they were teens, but a child's birthday celebration is not the place to relapse.

The kids eat themselves sick and then they all sleepover at the Hibari's place, kids curled up under the kotatsu like kittens. It’s so cute that Nana can’t help but break Kyoya’s grumpy photo ban to sneak a picture of them together. Mei Lin snickers.

.

It’s more than six months before Iemitsu manages to keep his promise to visit. She was happy to celebrate Christmas with Mei Lin and his absence at Valentines and White Day are similarly ignored, though with slightly more annoyance. 

For someone who had wanted so badly to legitimize his daughter he was awfully ready to let her forget his face. She supposes it can’t be helped, she had known what she was getting into when she tied herself to someone of the _Ukiyo._

Unlike many of her peers she has never needed a man to keep herself happy. Her priorities had always been in taking care of herself, then later Mei Lin and their friend group. Romantic relationships just weren’t worth the effort. 

Iemitsu was different, easy, taking the absolute minimum emotional labor to keep. He needed her about as much as she needed him, that being nearly not at all. He was _fun_ without being tiring. 

Still, she is happy enough to welcome him back that summer, only frowning briefly when hearing that his ‘boss’ is going to be coming with him on the visit. _Apparently_ they are on their way back from some kind of unspecified event in Akihabara and are thus only going to be in town for a day before leaving.

She almost, _almost_ tells him no. Then she sighs and agrees. 

If her husband wants to keep up the pretense of ignorance and stealthily present her daughter to his _Oyabun_ then who is she to disagree? Better than getting her involved in his nonsense _early._

Mei Lin had done something similar with Kyoya when he had turned six, somehow wrangling him into something presentable and limiting his biting to Approved Targets. Nana still isn’t sure exactly how she had managed it, but assumes at least part of it had come from her experience dealing with her nonsense during their high school days. 

And so, with great reluctance, she steps into her _Yamato Nadeshiko_ housewife persona for the first time in more than six months, dressing in soft pastels and banishing Masako to the Hibaris for the night, cleaning organizing and hiding anything that might lead to a bad first impression. The man isn’t _her_ Oyabun and never will be, but her husband belongs to him too, so she must make nice.

He’s somehow different from how she had expected. He has none of the stiff formality of her old clan head, and none of the smooth charm of Mei Lin’s father. It isn’t a letdown exactly, but it is a little anti-climatic. It’s almost certainly on purpose, but she feels a little cheated.

That’s not to say he isn’t _powerful,_ he has that same overflowing _Otherness_ as her Iemitsu and Mei Lin’s brother, the one time she met him. Even Mei Lin flickered with it every once in a while, echos of something _Adderall-and-Cocaine_ that had attracted her interest in the first place back in high school.

Still, with the Hawaiian shirt and cane, he looks like nothing so much as a grey-bearded pensioner touring the area. Sure, the cane is almost certainly a prop and a bludgeoning weapon both, but really? 

Still, she is adaptable and does not hesitate, even under his long assessing look, feigning ignorance. 

She watches very carefully while Iemitsu introduces Masako to the older man. She doesn't think Iemitsu would knowingly endanger her or her daughter, but she trusts her daughter’s uncannily good judge of character more than his good sense.

She doesn’t seem _too_ nervous, at least after a brief moment of shyness right as they arrive. It’s perfectly understandable, seeing how Nana is fairly certain she has never met anyone this Other before. The confirmation of safety lets her feel comfortable enough to relax her guard.

She feels safe enough indeed, to leave Masako with her husband while she runs to the store for some last-minute dinner things. She takes her time, enjoying a few minutes of banter and bargaining with Tanabata-san at the market.

Still, she doesn’t want to leave them for _too_ long, so she moves quickly enough, the whole trip taking a little less than an hour.

She comes home to an odd feeling in the air, something just slightly _off_. Iemitsu and Nono-san sit in the living room with Masako. Her daughter is asleep on the couch, head pillowed on Nono’s knee, thumb in her mouth like she hasn’t done in more than a year. His hand is settled on the top of her head as they talk. 

Nana pauses in the entrance, observing the room. _Something_ has very clearly happened while she was gone. For the first time, she senses some of that _Otherness_ coming from her daughter, too. It’s that same golden _Spider-Silk-and-Afterglow_ as Iemitsu and Nono-san, with just a touch of _lazy-sunday-morning_.

Curious.

Well, besides the thumb sucking she doesn’t seem upset, face smooth in sleep, and Iemitsu is relaxed, so whatever happened probably isn’t something she needs to be upset about. Still, she’ll make sure to keep a close eye on it, just in case she needs to _take care_ of the problem.

Nono catches sight of her in the doorway. 

“Ah, Nana-san, welcome back,” he smiles, then nods to the girl on the couch. “She fell asleep a few minutes ago. Considering the time, we weren’t sure if you would want to put her to bed or wake her up so we let her rest.”

She takes to offered cue.

“I’ll put her to bed,” she agrees. “She doesn’t really do naps and it’s close enough to her bedtime that waking her up now would only keep her up all night. I’ll put her in my room for now, if she wakes up before dinner she’ll come down herself.”

She scoops her up, no attention paid to the older man. Masako doesn’t even stir.

Once they’re upstairs she does check her over, making sure nothing is actually wrong. She doesn’t find anything, but something about the whole thing feels off, pinging on her radar. something is being hidden from her and she does not like it.

She’s probably being paranoid.

On principal, she offers them both beds in the house, seeing how anything else would be out of character, but Nono-san assures her they both have rooms booked in the local hotel. They need to leave at six the next morning and it would be terribly rude to disturb them so early, right?

She goes to sleep that night with Masako in her arms, still strangely hyper-aware in a way that used to be familiar.

.

When she wakes up the next day, it is nearly noon and her daughter is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Ukiyo_ \- Literally “Floating World”. Historically it refers to the world of pleasure seeking, e.g gambling, prostitution, drugs. I’m using it in this context to refer to the Japanese Underworld. This isn’t _usually_ used a modern context, but i have seen it in other KHR works and i like it, so whatever.
> 
>  _Yamato Nadeshiko_ \- A term used to refer to the japanese housewife ideal, femanine, demure, an excellent cook and housekeeper, etc.
> 
>  _Oyabun_ \- The Head of a Japanese Mafia Family.
> 
> **Notes on names:**
> 
> _Kasuga_ \- Kasuga no Tsubone was a Japanese noble lady and politician from a prominent Japanese samurai family of the Azuchi–Momoyama and Edo periods. She was the wet nurse of the third Tokugawa shōgun Iemitsu. Lady Kasuga was one of the best politicians in the Edo period. She stood in front of negotiations with the Imperial Court and contributed to the stabilization of the Tokugawa Shogunate.
> 
>  _Saigo_ \- Saigō no Tsubone, also known as Oai, was the first consort and trusted confidante of Tokugawa Ieyasu. She was also the mother of the second Tokugawa shōgun, Tokugawa Hidetada. Her birth name was most likely Tozuka Masako, which is why Iemitsu was willing to accept this name. 
> 
> _Tsuruhime_ \- The adopted daughter of Shogun Iemitsu.
> 
>  _Masako_ \- Hojo Masako, the only female shogun. She took power after her husband (the first shogun of the Kamakura shogunate) was killed, though was noted as having been given most or all the power of her husband even years before. She is credited as being behind the great success he had before his death. She was the mother and a major power behind the second and third shoguns of the Kamakura Shogunate. She later appointed and then acted as de facto shogun for the infant Kujo Yoritsune until her death at 69 years old.


	2. Of his bones are coral made;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Masako wakes up in Italy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah i dont even know.
> 
> Not beta read.

Macchan doesn’t know where she is.

She had been playing outside, kicking around a ball when Yoshino-san’s dog had squeezed through the fence and started barking. She had shrieked - Yoshino-san’s dog _bites_ \- and started running towards Papa and Nono-san. 

Papa pointed something at her and then something hit her in the face, and it hurt like that time Kyoya hit her with his foam tonfas but _worse-_  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


i̴̠͊̒̓͑̓̊̏̕ ̸̨̖̀́̑d̴̖͖̱̜͔̩͉̫͉̪͉̗̹̦͊͆̾͠o̵̢̳͎̾̌̌͐̔͗̐̋̇͘n̷̢̠͉̤̳̱̹̖͊͒͝ẗ̴̨͖̩̼̳̼̯͕̱̝͕͎̣͈́̉̈́́̈́͐͊̕̚ ̵̨̧͎̝̥̮̜͎̙͕̫͗͂̓̑̉̆̎͐́̈̄͗̌̅͠w̷̧̢̙̠̠͇͚̝͓̣͎̙̘̘̖̐͑͛̾͗̆́̇̓̚̕͜a̸̢͇̟̠̣̯̙̲͉̪̠̫̠̱̮̲͗̾̔̄̀͆̀́͐̈́̓̄͘̚͘͘͠ͅṇ̷̡̨̢̛̫̥̖͍̗̲̣̲̞̥͙̝̊̌̿̓̽͜t̴͙͓̩͎̗͕͍̖̜̹͇̭̰͖̤͈̉̒̐̕ͅͅ ̵͍̎̽̋̾̔̏̅̉̆̕͘̚t̴̨̢͍̲̼̞̞͓̮̳̮̟̟̠̯̲̻̐̓̓̚͜ǫ̷̢̧͍̗̜̥͓̖̲̗̿̀͛̈̋͜͠ ̶̨̦͓̹̪͈̻̮̟̣͓̮̘͓͈̩̲͆̎̾̓̾̈́̍͊͝ͅd̶̢̡̢̻̰̬̬͖̣̩̀̏i̴̢̡̺͉͍̰̜̦̩̬͇̠̲̩͎̇̋̈́̏͂̈̌̔̋̋̆̈́͜͝ĕ̵̡̛̤̟̬̞̣͙̮͔͓͓̝̖̘̳͈͖̘̇͋̊͑̿͛̏̄̒̓͑͋̑̆͝͝  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The world went strange and sharp and she knew she had to find Mama or Kyoya. Kyoya will protect her, he doesn’t bite her without asking anymore like _Papa_ did-

She turns toward the gate - mama will forgive her for leaving alone this once - and someone grabs her, lifting her up around the waist.

She thrashes, opening her mouth to scream or bite and then there’s a handful of blue light being pressed to her face over her eyes and she falls asleep.

When she woke up she was in a room by herself on a couch. It’s bright and sunny outside and the air is dry enough to make her throat hurt. She coughs and it doesn’t help.

There’s a wall made of glass looking out at a big pool like they have at the community center and a wooden staircase going upstairs. There's a chair shaped like a soap bubble hanging from a chain under it with a big orange cushion and shelves covered in picture frames full of plants and people she doesn’t know. One of the walls has a big poster in a frame that looks like something out of a colored manga page and a big fluffy carpet in dark blue under the couch.

It's big and makes her feel weird like she’s in someone else’s house without permission. She squirms uncomfortably.

Mama always says if you don’t know where you are you’re supposed to stay in one place so people can find you.

She tries, she really does, but she needs to pee. She gets up to try and find a toilet or an adult.

She finds one - a toilet - upstairs in a room connected to the hallway. It’s big too, and she isn't sure why you would need so many windows inside. It has a glass cubicle and a little pool too, off to the side. It’s a little like the inflatable pool Mei Lin lets her and Kyoya play in during the summer, but sunk into the floor and empty for now.

After figuring out how to flush - there’s a button on the top! - she goes in search of the Adult she wanted earlier.

The window-door downstairs doesn’t open to let her outside so she goes looking for another one. None of the cupboards open, including the ones behind the long counter with a glass front full of cups and bottles that she looks at curiously.

Eventually she finds the door in plain sight on the opposite side of the big window and feels a little silly.

She pulls down on the handle and leans back to pull it open. It’s a little tricky since it's pretty heavy but she manages it.

Outside is a hallway. The floor is smooth and black and feels like stone under her bare feet as she walks.

None of the doors she tries open, then she rounds the corner and bumps into a man in some kind of a uniform pulling a cart full of what looks like rolled-up towels.

He yelps in surprise and she almost falls over but catches herself in time, pinwheeling her arms.

The man blinks at her and then makes an expression of comprehension, crouching so he can look at her without looming.

“Principessa! Buona Sera, desidera? Ti sei persa?”

She has no idea what he’s saying and he looks faintly concerned when she doesn't respond. 

“Um, I don't know what you said?” she offers. “Sorry.”

He looks surprised, then frowns. He thinks about it for a second then stands to move the cart carefully out of the way, offering her his hand with a friendly smile.

She studies him a second, then decides he feels trustworthy and takes it.

He leads her down a couple of halls and to a door marked with a brass plate. She can't read it but the man carefully knocks on the door with his free hand. A voice answers and he opens the door, guiding her inside.

Inside, Nono-san is sitting at a big desk. Next to him is a man with longish light-colored hair and what looks like a robot arm to her. He looks unhappy to be interrupted, straightening up from where he had been leaning down to speak.

She freezes in place. Nono-san feels _different_ now. Before, he felt uniformly disinterested, as if she was beneath his notice. It felt a little like meeting some of Kyoya’s distant uncles that only barely liked _Kyoya._ Safe in anonymity, in being unseen. 

Now she feels exposed, like she’s staring into the eyes of a storybook giant, not hostile perhaps, not aggressive, but not welcoming either. Possessive.

Her guide says something in that other language and Nono-san nods and says something back, waving at him to leave. He does, smiling down at her as he passes like he can’t sense the predator in the room.

The door closes and she looks between the two, scrunching her toes into the carpet.

Nono-san smiles faintly and the twist of apprehension grows. She smiles back hesitantly, because what else can she do?

“Princess, hello. We were not expecting you to be awake for another couple of hours. My apologies for leaving you to wake up alone. Please come sit, this is my friend Coyote Nougat, but you may call him _Zio Nougat._ ”

“Shi-o Nu-ga-to,” she parrots carefully, tripping over the words a little. She bows a little like her mama taught her when meeting new people. It’s a little wobbly.

Nugato-san makes a faint derisive noise in the back of his throat and she flushes.

“We will work on that later,” he replies in crisp unaccented Japanese, not bowing back. Her mama would _smack_ him for the rudeness. 

“Similarly,” he continues, shooting a look at the other man. “You will call Timoteo-san either _Don Vongola_ or _Nono_ in public. And no honorifics, this is _Italia._ ”

But that would be so _rude!_

She boggles at the idea while _Nono-san_ sighs with exasperation, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“ _Really_ Marcello, there is no need for that much formality, she is _five_.”

“Better she gets used to it now than slip up in front of witnesses before her Debut.” _Zio Nougat_ responds, tone crisp. "We wouldn't want another Xanxus on our hands, _would_ we.”

He huffs but doesn't argue.

Just then there’s a knock at the door. Zio Nougat-san barked out a word and an older woman lets herself in, followed closely by a teenager with a short almost-hime cut. He’s wearing the same uniform as the man before but with a shield-shaped patch on the shoulder and indigo-colored stripes down each arm. The woman is dressed more like the two men, with a dark purple pantsuit topped with a black suit jacket. 

The boy bows shallowly, but odd, one arm crossed over his front, head slightly bowed. The woman doesn’t bother, just settling into a relaxed stance, crossing her arms. She drawls something at the two men and Zio Nougat scowls and snips something back.

Something about the purple paired with the irreverent posture and snarky tone makes her think of Kyoya and maybe a bit of her Mama. She isn’t sure what it is, but it makes her eyes well with tears. She sniffles faintly, glad they aren’t paying her any attention.

The boy ignores the argument and walks over to her, falling into a squat and smiling, holding a hand beside her head. He cocks his head and she gets the idea that he’s asking her something. She doesn’t understand but smiles and he takes that as an answer, pressing his fingertips lightly to her temple and closing his eyes.

There's a feeling of tugging in her brain, like someone is pulling tape off of her arm, and _that’s_ a weird feeling. Then there's a sharp pinching _press_ and she has to sit down right there on the floor as everything spins. Her eyes are closed and she feels the boy press a bucket into her arms just in time to be noisily sick.

He pats her back apologetically. The room goes suddenly quiet.

“Sorry about that _Hime-chan_ , I needed a copy of your Japanese for my library. I shared a little Italian while I was at it, that was what made you feel sick. It’ll settle in a minute.”

“Babel, in future _do_ consult with myself before putting a working on the girl.” Nono-san orders, back to Japanese. He looks a little irritated. “I don’t appreciate Mists poking around in my _Famglia’s_ minds or their _Flames_ without cause.”

“Well I assumed you wouldn’t want to let me poke around in your’s or _Arashi-san’s_ heads,” he hums unapologetically. “Too full of _secrets~_ ”

Nono-san scowls but doesn’t disagree.

“Besides,” he continues, smiling cheerfully. “ _Hime-chan_ is going to need all the help she can get, the language most of all. I only gave her what she could handle, and children’s minds are very good at absorbing languages, as are Skies. I figure most of what I gave her will stick in the long term as long as she uses it soon. I can boost her a little more in a few weeks if she agrees.”

Purple Lady gets tired of being left out of the conversation and kicks him lightly, saying something annoyed in Italian that sounds like an order. He stands like that was always the plan, crossing to her and reaching up to smack his hand to the side of her face with much less delicacy than he had done with Masako. They’re motionless for a long second and then she sways lightly, going pale.

She inhales slowly through her nose and then relaxes, opening her eyes to smirk at him. He looks faintly impressed, holding a second bucket magicked out of nowhere.

She turns to look at Masako.

“Girl,” she says, thickly accented. “I am called _Housekeeper_ here, and I will be in charge of your stay. If something is wrong with your room or clothing, you come to me or find someone with this kind of uniform-” she gestured at the boy with the indigo sleeves, and he wiggles his fingers at her. “-and they can tell me.”

As she speaks, her voice and accent smooth out, going back to the same low richness as her Italian. By the end of it, her accent all but vanishes. Behind her back, the boy makes a low noise of delight, clapping his hands. 

“Please take care of me,” Masako responds reflexively, bowing politely. She accepts the hand that is held out to her, happy to fall back into comfortable territory. 

She pulls Masako out the door without so much as a backward glance at the two other adults. The boy follows at her heels, closing the door behind them and then vanishing the moment she looks away.

She leads her down several hallways and into a little kitchen, picking her up and unceremoniously dropping her into a chair at the table to rummage around in the fridge.

She deposits a plate full of cut fruit and vegetables in front of her with a bowl of peanut butter for dipping, before sliding into the opposite chair and placing a pair of mismatched mugs on the table between them with a click. She takes an aggressive bite out of a stick of celery, frowning as she stares at her.

Masako timidly nibbles at an apple slice and discovers she is actually very hungry, taking a few carrot sticks and a bunch of grapes.

Seemingly satisfied, Housekeeper nods and then sighs, leaning back in the seat.

“I suppose none of those ridiculous men have bothered to explain just what is going on, have they? Of course not, my staff are the only _competent_ people in this place.” she scoffs and takes a long drink from her mug. 

Masako investigates hers and discovers cold fruit tea, lightly doctored with lemon and something slightly spicy. It’s _really_ tasty and she drinks deeply. It’s soothing on her scratchy throat.

“I don’t approve of you being brought here,” she begins, pursing her lips. “If it were up to me, Sky or not you would not have been touched until you were at least ten or twelve, if ever. The deliberate Activation of someone your age is generally not done for any number of reasons, not the least being because Flames are misused in the hands of grown _Mafioso,_ let alone little girls. The side effects are nothing to sneeze at, either, and not worth the trouble. Unfortunately, it is _not_ up to me.”

She scowls. 

“ _That man_ has the common sense God gave a hamster, I swear, and that advisor of his is no better.” she mutters disparagingly.

Masako stays quiet, listening and eating. She gets the feeling that, like Kyoya, it is best to just let her go until she runs out of steam. Unlike Kyoya, this one seems less prone to physical violence.

“Boh,” she waves the problem away, refocusing. “What happened cannot be changed, and you are a part of my Household now, so we will make do. To start, how were your rooms? Did you look around after you awoke?”

“My rooms? Mine?” she asks, confused.

Housekeeper nods sharply, not understanding or ignoring the confusion.

“Yes, we had very little warning to prepare for your arrival so had to childproof a set of existing guest rooms instead of accommodating for your age and preferences. I understand it is likely unsuitable but it will have to do for now. Once you settle in we can move you to another set if these prove unsuitable.”

“It’s so big though,” she chews on her fingernail nervously. “What do I need it for?”

The rooms had felt _huge_ without anyone else, like if she didn't walk barefoot it would echo.

For the first time, Housekeeper starts to unbend a little, eyeing her with something approaching sympathy. Or a sympathy adjacent expression. Maybe constipation, it's a little hard to tell. 

“It won’t feel nearly so roomy once you’ve found your Set,” she assures, “by then you will be _begging_ for some privacy, and the extra space will be a blessing. Rattling around a little now will be worth it in the long run for a bit of your own Territory. You will see.” 

“But why?” she asks, honestly confused. “I won’t be here that long.” She hesitates for a long pause, then- “Right? Miss Housekeeper?” 

Yes, that's sympathy. A little apology too.

“I’m very sorry _gatino_ , but that is not how this is going to happen.”

She blinks at her, uncomprehending.

“I can't stay though, Mama will want me home soon.”

Housekeeper shakes her head.

“This _is_ your home now, Principessa.”

“Oh. Then when is Mama coming? And Kyoya and Aunty?”

“They're not coming, I am sorry.”

Not coming?

What?

No.  


Nonono _nonono nonono **nononononon̶͗ö̷̲͒̾͑̃̑͌͊̈̇̉̌̕n̸̝̓** **o̵͇̘̙̠̺̊o̶̢̨̘̹͈̝͚̤̲͑ͅơ̷̛͚̬̤̠͕̘͛͋̊͊͊̆̆̓̌̚ó̵̠̙̤͚̪̬̰̻͓͓̪̐̈̈͝ȍ̷̢̡͕̝̮͔͉͗́͐̋̇͗̇ǫ̶̦̗̺̩͚͔͖̭̜͖̮͌̒͂͗̆͌͑̒̄̑̾͠ǫ̸̢̯̣̬̈̓͠ǫ̴̦͎͉̩̳̦̱̤͖͂̊̓̚o̴͔̝̟͌̂̎̿͘ͅó̸͙̣͍͎͕͆̌͌̊͘--  
**_  
  


Something pops open in her chest like the lid of a microwave container and her breathing stutters in her chest. 

She can barely hear Housekeeper past the roar of her pulse in her ears and those words echoing over and over again.

Kyoya will come for her, Kyoya will always come for her, where is Kyoya? _Where are they hiding him?_

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**İ̵̜̙̤̜̞̂̋͑̅̋ ̷̢̨̼͇͇̟̖̥̓͝w̸̖̮̯̹̟̑̉́͘a̷̛͔͎͉̍̌̑͜͝n̴̨̢̛̖̠͈̗͕̲̠͕̲̼̱̲̱̬̻̪̠̻̣̭̰̟̱͑̐͂̾̌͛̈́͗̽̈́̆̄̆̅̉̑̈̔͑̂̉̅͑̈́̕͘̚͠͠t̶̫̩̪͈͒̏̑̃͂ ̵̢̝͔͍̭̄̓̅͐͆̌͌̿m̴̛͉̤̫̏̈́̍̉͆͂̌̚͠y̸̜̌ ̴͕̬͓̦̗̼̟̣͌́̀̅͋̈́̆K̶̛̲̹͓̈́̆̿̀͘͝͠ẙ̸̛̥̂̃͊̇͐͛͛̆͐̐̑̓̅͐͛̿́̚͠͝ȯ̷͔̘̙̹̝͑̆̒̽̃̐̚͠ẙ̷̤͔̼̤̬͖̰̪͖̑̈́̒̓͘̕͘͝͝͝ă̵̡͈̰̳̘̍̄̓́.̴̡͓̥̠͛**  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


A coronet of fire flares to life on her forehead and she snarls, a harbinger of imminent violence much more at home in the throat of her skylark than from her, because she is _angier than she has ever been in her life._

Embers like sparklers fly as everything flickers sharply and then a heavy hand slaps hard onto her forehead, smothering out the burst of flame. 

With the fire gone, so is the rage and the energy both and she feels dizzy and hollow.

She sways back in her seat, hair smoking slightly.

“Honestly! I _knew_ this was going to happen-” a voice complains, sounding generally disgusted. Hands pull her carefully up onto someone’s shoulder where she flops like a particularly sad sack of rice. “-one baby firebug is the same as all the others, one little push and they Flare all over the place but no-one ever listens to _me-_ ”

She passes out.

.

She is not expecting the phone call.

Not that it would have mattered if she had, but the voice on the other end of the line - more specifically the _tone_ \- makes her heart race and her hair stand on end like it hasn't since the last time she had heard it. That was when both of them were both still in high school, before her best friend hung up her _bosozoku_ uniform for good.

"Mei Lin," Nana hums, no honorifics, no pet names, no _mercy_. "Mei Lin, my husband has done something unforgivable and stolen our Macchan. Help me punish him?"

As if she could turn down a proposition like that. She feels a thrill of pride and affection at being the first to be called, even as she marvels at the sheer _audacity_ of the man.

"Of course, Nana-chan," she nearly purrs. "Have you ever needed to ask? I'm on my way." 

"Don't bother, I'm nearly there. Protect Kyoya for now."

Ooh, burr. Direct orders now? She hums in agreement and ends the call.

Her poor little monster is prowling the halls, immature Flames prickling with frustration and anxiety. 

His aimless agitation over the last twenty-four hours makes an unfortunate amount of sense now. 

While no Vongola, his instincts have always been good. Besides that, as a Cloud with a living Territory, inactive and immature or not, he obviously has a certain _sensitivity_ toward that Territory. A threat to Masako is a threat to the whole herd, and he has always been especially attuned to her. Her anxiety and upset are likely setting him off, even at a distance. Her poor babies.

He used to follow her to the playground and the way he'd shadowed her on her first errand had been both adorable and _hilarious_. He swears he's above such 'herbivorous' actions, but his soft spot for his 'little animal' is beyond obvious. 

Really, the way he's been _circling_ the younger girl, you'd swear he was courting a-

Oh.

Oh _fuck._

A Sky.

A fucking _Sky?_

She freezes in the act of stuffing her phone back in her bra as the thought occurs to her. 

There's no _guaranteed_ way to be certain, not without Activation or someone much, much more sensitive to Flames then her, but thinking back - the way the other kids would orbit around her, the way Kyoya would _let them_ \- their behavior is nearly textbook. And to someone versed in searching for such things it would be beyond obvious. Fucking god _damn._

It is one thing, for a man to steal away a son or daughter of a civilian wife for an heir or legacy. It's common even, in many parts of the Ukiyo. That wouldn't stop her from fixing it, but it isn't _strange._

It is another thing entirely to steal a nascent Sky from her very back yard, from her nest, _under her very nose._

There are very few people who have the balls to do such a thing, and absolutely none of them want what's good for the sky in question. _Especially_ for female Skies.

She pulls out her phone and dials.

He picks up on the first ring

" _Wéi_?"

"Dàgē, It's me, I need help. There's a Sky thief in Namimori. He stole Kyoya's little sister."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Italian**  
>  _Principessa! Buona Sera, desidera? Ti sei persa?_ \- Princess! good afternoon, how can I help you? are you lost?  
>  _Zio_ \- Uncle  
>  _Nono/Nonno/Don Vongola_ \- Nono means nine and Nonno means Grandfather, so Coyote is specifically telling her to call him "ninth" or by his title rather than something familiar.  
>  _gatino_ \- kitten
> 
>  **Japanese**  
>  _Arashi-san_ \- Mr Storm  
>  _Hime-chan_ \- Princess  
>  _Bosozoku girls_ \- a type of japanese biker gang consisting only of girls. They use specially modified bikes and fashion often inspired by kamikaze pilot uniform to engage in reckless and thrill seeking behavior such as high speed chases, fights, and destruction of property.
> 
>  **Chinese**  
>  _Wèi?_ \- The way you answer the phone. I'm told it means something like "is the connection okay?"  
>  _Dàgē_ \- older brother
> 
> feel free to roast me for my shitty language skills lol.
> 
> Before people get the wrong idea about it, when Masako describes Timoteo is feeling “predatory” to her, it’s meant mostly in the way Kyoya would mean it. She is five years old, standing in the heart of someone else’s territory, in front of the man who has taken her captive, in a place where five other male skies have done the flame equivalent of peeing on trees to mark their territory. She feels cornered and vulnerable but not unsafe in the adult way that might be implied. 
> 
> Her Hyper Intuition sees this but she has no frame of reference to really understand it yet. As far as Timoteo is concerned, she is a potential asset and a member of the family in the same way Xanxus is, so he has no intentions to hurt her. Still, you know what they say about good intentions and the road to hell.
> 
> if you want a picture reference for her room, [this is the photo I was attempting to describe.](https://64.media.tumblr.com/5f9acb0e2e700e49807c5532d995a4f7/tumblr_op2rv5Ljl71qkegsbo1_1280.jpg)
> 
> A question: is the color clever or too much? Still playing with it.


	3. Happy as a Clam; Hard-shelled and Firmly Closed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Masako meets the family and Fon begins The Hunt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Candlenights! As a special treat, I've updated several of my stories all at once, so please check them out!  
> \- KHR Ajin!AU, "On Heaven and Earth"  
> \- KHR Mafia Princess!AU, "Pearl is the Gem of Queens"  
> \- MDZS Fox!WWX AU, "From the Trickster to the Fox"  
> \- Naruto Mokuton!AU, "Hawthorn Bakes the Sweetest bread"

Dinner is tense.

Masako wakes from her enforced nap just in time to be stuffed into a dress she has never seen before and ushered into a chair at the end of a long table, nearly on the opposite end to Nono-san.

He seems to be in lively conversation with her father who is seated to his right and younger woman to his left who takes one look at the new girl child at the table and gets a look on her face like she’s smelled something gross, turning so she can start hissing at the man next to her. 

The handful of Italian words she catches at the speed they’re talking at makes her think the younger woman is his - wife? maybe? She seems irate. Something something another something?

They’re separated by a pair of older men who seem to be listening to the argument with a great deal of interest. The older of the men - a rail-thin, dark-haired man with broad shoulders - seems intrigued. 

Across from her is a bored looking boy, maybe 17 or 18 years old, head resting on his hand until a woman sitting at him snaps at him to sit up straight. He seems completely uninterested in conversation or in looking at her past a half-hearted glance over. He’s also sitting closest to her, as the seat on either side of her is empty.

Other than her, he seems to be the youngest there. The woman next to him seems to be his mother, leaning forward to whisper with the woman who is next to the empty seat at her left side. She sneaks looks at Masako too, face going strange and twisted with worry.

Masako picks queasily at the sleeve of her new dress, worrying the seam. She keeps her eyes on her lap rather than risking eye contact. The fabric is stiff and starchy under her fingers like Mei Lin’s formal suit jacket the one time she can remember her wearing it. 

She feels… Other. Surrounded by more people than she’s ever interacted with outside of the public, and she feels more alone than she ever has sitting by herself in her room.

Fairly soon after her arrival, people in uniform sweep in and start to serve food to everyone. 

She thanks the lady who serves her food - a small brunette with a kind smile - but can only make herself pick at it. 

First there are different thin cuts of meat like Mama would put on sandwiches - apparently called _Salumi_ \- and bread with dishes of olive oil to dip it in, followed by a pasta dish. She’s given a little glass of wine like the adults and sniffs it, sipping a little then leaving it in favor of the weird fizzy water also poured for her.

The person serving the pasta calls it Frutti de Mare. She pokes at it a little suspiciously, not sure what Sea Fruit is, but it seems to be a bunch of different kinds of seafood, clams and muscles, and little octopus in a sauce made with butter, garlic, and white wine. 

It tastes nice but it's so rich compared to what she’s used to that it makes her already upset stomach unhappy so she ends up picking out the bits of seafood and leaving most of the noodles there. The server frowns when she takes her bowl but says nothing, looking at her skinny wrists.

There's another course after that, with a thick stew with a bunch of different kinds of meat and a few vegetables - _Bollito Misto_ \- served alongside a green salad. 

She halfheartedly picks at it but has a lot more salad than meat. She bets Kyoya would like it if he was here. She misses him already, and the thought makes her sad again.

She almost entirely skips the next course - how much food do these people eat? - an array of cheese nuts and fruit for people to pick at, only accepting a couple of fig quarters when her server nudges her into it, looking concerned again at her barely touched plate. They’re tasty, the seeds breaking interestingly when she bites on them.

Dessert is the only thing that seems familiar, the Panna Cotta almost the same as her mom’s _Purin_. That one she finishes happily, scraping her bowl clean.

The adults are brought tiny coffees and other drinks. Masako is flagging, nodding off in her chair. The ‘naps’ earlier weren’t really restful and the combination of a full belly, stress, and the beginnings of a cold mean she is ready to go back to bed. Her server goes to whisper in Don Vongola’s ear. He glances at her and nods before going back to his conversation. 

She comes back and offers her a hand, gently guiding her out of her chair and away. One of the other men, the older of the two, watches her as she goes.

The lady leads her back to her room, towing her gently by her hand. By now Masako is crashing hard and the Lady puts her to bed in a room upstairs, tucking her in carefully before leaving, footsteps nearly silent. She is a very quiet person, she thinks, then falls asleep.

.

She is woken the next day when someone throws open the curtains.

The light makes her head throb and she whimpers. She burrows into her pillow, curling around it like a pill bug, hiding her face. 

Someone tries to coax her up but she refuses, coughing miserably. Now she’s awake, she feels like garbage, the scratchy throat having bloomed into a sore throat and snotty nose overnight.

Whoever it is leaves, and then a different someone is there, stealing her blankets and sneaking a cool hand onto her face to feel her forehead. She whines, curling tighter. Now she’s _cold_ , too.

The person who turns out to be miss Housekeeper bullies her up and into taking her temperature, tsking and then making her drink a cap full of strawberry cough syrup and a cup of weird herby tea before covering her back up and letting her sleep.

.

Fon touches down in Namimori not even twelve hours after his sister’s call. Alistaire owes him several large favors and one last-minute trans-Asiatic flight does not even start to cover it.

His sister is waiting for him at the landing pad, not seeming to notice the wind catching her long hair.

At her side is a sulking Cloudlet, limply hanging from a child-sized harness in protest. His mother has a hold on the back of it, ignoring her son’s dramatics with the ease of experience. She doesn't _look_ tired but he sees the glow of gold in her eyes and assumes her Flame is to thank for that. 

“Gege,” she greets, relieved. She kneels for a hug, setting her son down on the tarmac. He makes a break for it but she catches him without looking, stuffing him under one arm instead while she greets him. He whines loudly and goes limp again in the hold.

“Meimei,” he greets in return, accepting the one-armed embrace easily. It has been years since she has grown old enough not to want hugs from him, so this is a welcome treat despite the circumstances.

They separate and he pats his nephew's limp back as well in greeting. The boy completely ignores him, as usual.

“Thank you for coming so fast Gege,” Mei Lin sighs as she straightens, trying to set Kyoya on his feet. He refuses to co-operate, so she returns to letting him ragdoll while she holds the harness like she would a bag of groceries. “I’m didn’t want to drag you away from Clan business but I know when I'm in over my head.”

It was true enough, his sister had forfeited the right to deploy Clan resources when she had refused to take up the mantle of the heiress. That doesn't mean she doesn't have her own personal subordinates, but none of her people are Flame Active and her limited childhood training isn't nearly enough to help her investigate something as big and sensitive as this.

“Of course,” he agrees, tucking his hands into his sleeves. “I could do no less for my sister and her beloved children.”

She smiles wearily at him and they start walking, presumably for a waiting car. She hikes Kyoya up high enough that his feet won't drag as they walk.

.

They arrive at the compound quickly enough, passing through the wards with a feeling like breaching the surface of a soap bubble.

His sister releases her spawn as soon as the car stops and he's _gone_ , sprinting for the house without a backward glance. She shakes her head fondly.

"He's not forgiven me for keeping him in the compound, but I just couldn't risk it. I have no doubt he's gone to sulk in the nursery."

Fon hums in acknowledgment, 'looking' around the compound carefully. He can confirm for certain that his sister is right about the child, even like this. 

The baby Sky has left thin wisps everywhere, just by existing in the area for as long as she has. In fact, she has left almost as strong a trace as Kyoya has, and Kyoya has considered and treated the compound as his Territory since he was big enough to have opinions on the matter.

There is no doubt at all then, that she is or was to be Kyoya's. He would not tolerate such a thing otherwise.

A woman meets them at the door, a petite brunette so towering with suppressed rage that her Flame is visibly roiling over her skin. A Cloudy Mist, so close to Activation that he can taste it in the air and he's very, very tempted to give her a little _push_. 

Hmm. Perhaps his association with Reborn has had a more lasting effect than he had anticipated.

Despite her anger her face and body language are both relaxed, and she smiles at him brightly.

"Hello," she greets, and tiny sparks of orange glitter flicker across her face before vanishing. "You're the one Mei Lin called, yes?"

Now that is interesting. Her daughter's Flame still clinging to her, or a hidden Sky potential of her own?

"Quite," he agrees, tilting his head respectfully toward his sister's partner. "I am called Fon."

She nods politely and then moves aside to let them in. His sister embraces her briefly as she passes, chinning her head like a cat. It soothes some of the worst prickles, and she relaxes a bit.

She introduces herself properly once they settle over a low table covered with paper and photographs, a large laminated map of Namimori marked with erasable markers. His sister - sisters? - have been busy.

"I am usually called Sawada Nanami," she says while pouring tea, "but you may call me Nana like Mei Lin does."

His sister lays out what they have so far, a record of passage for a small group of visiting men, the limited surveillance footage and digital records they could find in post.

There's not a lot of detail, unfortunately, mostly just a few fuzzy conbini cameras and one from an ATM. The car is nondescript black, an SUV with tinted windows and no adornment or custom work that he can see. The license plate is visible, but is proven to be fake, and untraceable.

The group has almost certainly cleaned up after themselves, but the father had not known about the hidden security camera installed above the garage door, so they get some footage of a half dozen men in cleanroom gear letting themselves in, and coming out a half an hour later with a few cardboard boxes. 

They're shortly followed by an old man and the apparent husband, but those two are shrouded with static. It is likely one or both are wearing some kind of signal disruption device or Mist artifact for just this reason. The most he can tell at a glance is that the father is a bright blond and the approximate heights of them both.

Even past the interference, the girl is tiny, hiked up carelessly over the blond's shoulder, completely limp. He imagines Kyoya in her place and has to beat back the ŗ̻̣̣̺̱̩͖̒̓͌ͥḙ̱́d͇̯̓ in his vision. He sympathized with the mother before but now he _understands_.

He wonders if the thieves know just how many enemies they have made, stealing his baby niece. He looks forward to telling them _personally_.

He checks on his nephew before going hunting, finding him in a room even more saturated with flame than the rest of the house. 

He's rolled miserably in a soft pink blanket on the bottom bunk of a bunk bed. At a glance, he can tell that this is the room the two of them shared when his sister was over. The top bunk is washed in foggy purple and the pillow Kyoya has his face buried in is more lightly steeped in an orange glow.

Fon closes the door quietly without disturbing him. His presence will not be a comfort.

Poor little wisp.

.

The house, when he lets himself in, is a _picture_. The insides are about what he had expected, with traces of the mother and daughter but only little bits of anything else. A little sun and a little cloud from his sister and nephew, the tiniest residue of some foreign sky, maybe a touch of rain in the living and bedroom, but nothing traceable.

The yard though, that is where things get a little interesting.

The whole area is awash with Sky, the explosive burst of a sudden Activation. It’s been undisturbed long enough for a couple of animals to come to bask; a cat and two tiny kittens lay curled in the roots of the tree, likely feral if the mother’s missing ear is any indication. The mother is too drunk to do more than flick her ears at his presence and the kittens are too small to care.

He examines the area carefully, even scaling the tree to look at the area from above.

He finds a clean bullet hole in the fence, thinly veiled with Mist to avoid notice. He sniffs at it carefully, smelling that strange not quite metallic scent of a quality flame conductive alloy. He cant find the bullet itself but he doesn’t need to to be certain of exactly what he’s looking at.

An artificial Activation.

Nana-san doesn't know what family the father's Oyabun was from and ‘grey-haired, foreign, in a tacky shirt’ is not actually all that helpful for identifying him. Still, the fact that the men had this kind of tech at all is a good indication of the general region, if not specific locality.

The tools needed for an assisted activation - Dying will bullets, rebuke bullets, sparking serums, and other liquid media - are almost exclusively Mediterranean in origin. Originally developed by the famous Elder Talbot for the seventh generation of the Italian Vongola Famiglia, the technology was occasionally shared (or stolen and reverse engineered) by Famiglia of the Alliance, but is jealously guarded once acquired. No sense in arming one’s enemies, no?

Sure, a handful of other individuals worldwide had figured out something similar - Reborn for example had fed one such gifted bullet to his chameleon and now had an unlimited supply - but this specific flame alloy was most common to the alliance.

A starting point, excellent.

_Let the hunt begin._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me @ myself: can you not angst for _one goddamn second-_
> 
> Food Notes:
> 
> Guys, native Italian dinners are A Lot and I never got used to them when we were visiting relatives, I was young enough I got tired ages before any of the adults would be ready to leave and my mom had to set me up to nap in the car. It's _so much fucking food_. If you're curious, you can read more about the structure of Italian dinners [HERE.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Italian_meal_structure#Supper_\(Cena\))
> 
> Salumi - cold cuts of a bunch of different salamis and other preserved meats such as Prosciutto Crudo, Prosciutto Cotto and Mortadella. eaten on their own, served with a good crusty bread and olive oil with salt to dip it in. If you visit an Italian Deli for lunch you can get a platter like this and/or similar with different cheeses and you will be ruined for other cold cuts forever. In a meal like this it would be an appetizer. 
> 
> Frutti de Mare - A pasta dish with assorted seafood, dressed with a sauce made with white wine, butter and garlic. My first introduction to seafood and my personal favorite Italian dish _ever_ , cannot recommend highly enough. If you find a restaurant with bins of live seafood in them outside the door, _get this._
> 
> Bollito Misto - a kind of Italian stew with like 10 kinds of meat, onion, garlic celery and spices. Very hardy, basically impossible to make for any less than 10 people at a time. Tasty of course, but it's a lot. It's unsurprisingly popular with all the Italian men i have been acquainted with, including my dad. Had it a few times when we went out since ordering it means you get a pot big enough for two or three very hungry Italian men. [Here's a recipe so you can see just what I mean.](https://www.seriouseats.com/recipes/2018/01/bollito-misto-italian-feast-of-mixed-boiled-meats.html)
> 
> Purin/Panna Cotta - Purin is Japanese pudding and Panna Cotta is a set pudding dessert. Not quite the same texture, but otherwise close enough to be comforting.
> 
> Note on Chinese physical intimacy: it is to my understanding that typical Chinese citizens culturally do not engage in physical contact, especially between parties of the opposite gender, even between married couples or blood relatives. it is supposed to be a measure of respect towards each other but tends to instead distance people from each other emotionally. 
> 
> The same can be said (i am told) about the Japanese. I made the deliberate authorial choice to ignore this point. In this universe, there is a cultural shift between Flame Active communities and civilians that includes physical contact, among other things that will become relevant later on. the Triad group Fon and Mei Lin are a part of is Flame Active, and Namimori is a Mafia Retirement town, so this is relevant. I apologize to anyone this may offend.


	4. Through storms no ship could dare to brave,

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xanxus returns to a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New year everyone! There's a POV shift a little bit into the chapter, going from Masako's POV to Xanxus's, in case it isn't immediately clear.

Masako hates it here.

Her mother says that ‘hate’ is one of those words she should use sparingly because then they actually mean something when you do - the same with “I’ll kill you” and “fuck” - but she’s _not here_ so she can say whatever she wants.

Well no, that's not actually even slightly true. _Signore Giuliani_ has all kinds of things to say about her _language_ , particularly that it’s all _completely wrong_. She’s not allowed to use Japanese in Italian lessons past the second week, and when she slips he swats her hands with a ruler. He calls her something other than Masako or Sawada too, the western name _Don Vongola_ had given her - Milena Menotti - frowning irritably when she tries to correct him.

The staff don't call her that anymore, not after one had called her _Signora Menotti_ for the third time that day and she’d started to cry. Now they call her _Principessa,_ which isn’t better but at least it’s less _wrong_.

Her tutors tell her she’s going to be joining her peers in _scuola primaria_ when school starts in September and her Italian needs to be up to par. 

Her father - called _Signore Beneventi_ by everyone here except _Don Vongola_ \- is usually too busy somewhere away from the keep to keep her company, so she only sees him at meals, sometimes. That, at least, is familiar, and she can’t feel too sore about the loss despite the lack of company.

She’s too busy most of the day to ever be _bored_. If she’s not in lessons, she’s seeing the tailors about her new uniform - A dark blue dress-like thing with a white collar and dress shoes to match - or quietly shadowing Housekeeper-san as she walks the mansion barking at employees and organizing deliveries. 

She’s not really _supposed_ to be following Housekeeper-san around, but the other option is sitting alone in her rooms and as long as she’s relatively quiet and stays where she’s not in the way Housekeeper-san doesn’t chase her away. She doesn't let Masako distract her, but never seems to forget her either, patting her head as she passes, making sure she’s got something to drink or nibble on after her lessons are over, and having one of her people direct her back to her rooms in time for bed.

She’s careful to be pretty quiet when she’s busy, but unlike Giuliani-san, _Housekeeper_ doesn’t mind if she talks to her in Japanese. She doesn’t understand it quite as well as she had that first day, but she listens intently and asks her what words mean if she doesn’t know. 

It’s a refreshing change, and she _hates_ when she has to leave for bed.

She’s not allowed to leave the building except to the walled garden, and the staff there watch her nervously but don't tell her to leave. They don't talk to her at all, actually. It’s quieter than the house. 

She has a lot of nearly silent fights with the lady who cleans her rooms and makes sure she’s dressed, bathed, and punctual to lessons and meals. Well, _fights_ is maybe a little bit of an exaggeration. It’s not like fights people have with Kyoya, with the biting and the hitting. It’s not even like the fights people have with Mama or Mei Lin, with the snarling and aggressive body language.

All she wants is to wear something that doesn’t need tights - please anything but tights _again_ , leggings would be okay too - but the blonde doesn't speak a word of Japanese and Masako hasn't gotten to the words for clothes yet in her lessons. All she can do when she holds up the tights is shake her head vigorously and go limp.

She doesn't kick anymore, the one time she tried to wriggle away the lady had flipped her onto her stomach over her knees and delivered three loud swats to her behind. She just refuses to cooperate. The one and only good thing about tights is she can use them to slide down the marble hallway like ice skates, at least until someone notices she’s left her shoes somewhere and puts a stop to it.

She _**hates**_ the tights.

She starts every night by biting her pillow as soon as she’s alone and screaming into it until she’s gasping for breath and shaking.

She wants her mom. She wants her _K͚͔ỷo̱̤y̪͞a._

.

After five weeks stuck in Saudi Arabia - making nice with people he doesn't like, getting fondled by women he doesn't want, ending with one _very_ cathartic bloodbath - the Varia's reputation is secure and he is ready to drink his weight in good Italian wine and sleep in his own territory. 

Saudi ‘champagne’ is all well and good, but to one who has been drinking watered wine almost as long as he’s been able to walk, the lack of even mild alcoholic beverages is a trial. 

The one time Xanxus had been offered something - some of the highly illegal tequila favored by the Saudi Royal who had hired the Varia in the first place - it had been at a party the day before the aforementioned bloodbath and he had needed to stay regretfully sober and professional. 

(Tequila does unfortunate things to his self-control, and his reputation is Varia Boss would not survive the blow that stripping naked or dancing on tables would do, no matter how funny it would be at the time.)

Almost as bad was the lack of safe territory - the light sleeping patterns and vigilance he had perfected were adequate but not _restful,_ and separation from his handful of Guardians had not improved his temper. 

Only his iron Will had kept him from saying something inadvisable to the third ‘dancer’ that had leaned into his arm, batting her eyes and pressing her chest against him to try and keep him sweet. His mother had been a _mignotta_ , he knows all the tricks, has used some himself on missions. She won't fluster him, no matter what she tries, and the continued trying is _irksome_.

Still, the mission is over, he’s home and still riding the high of bloodshed and a job well done. He kept his cool, proved his Quality all over again, and kept a straight face when he got to see the frankly hysterical expression on the Prince’s face when he had come to report his success and tracked blood all over his pretty white marble floors.

All he wants now is to find Squalo if he’s somewhere in the Iron Fort and bully him into sleeping or doing paperwork somewhere in arms reach so he can get some real rest. He’d look for Lussuria instead but the Sun fidgets annoyingly even asleep, and Leviathan would definitely let him but would spend the whole time silently screaming and that is about as far from _restful_ as it is possible for any one person to _be_ without chemical stimulants.

One of the Varia’s helicopters picks him up from the Vongola's private airstrip as he disembarks from the plane. The pilot isn’t someone he recognizes immediately, which means it’s probably one of the baby Mists practicing disguise. He flexes his perception the way Viper had taught him before stepping onto the craft, identifying her at a glance. 

She’s Viper’s current second, which is interesting. The choice of escort means there’s something _interesting_ going on, but nothing urgent or dangerous. If it was something urgent, Viper would have sent one of their disguised Mist doubles, and if it was actually dangerous they would have sent a heavy combat specialist or one of his Guardians. Might even have picked him up themself; they pretend to be above such things but the bond is fresh enough still that Viper’s a little protective.

“Tuman,” he greets into his mic as soon as they’re in the air. “What’s happened?”

She laughs in a low baritone, masculine jawline and close buzzcut melting into a delicate-looking brunette in the more comfortable combat uniform. She shrinks about six inches and her sleeves seem to roll themselves up without her help. It’s as close to her base form as he’s ever seen her.

“What gave it away?” she asks and interrupts before he can answer. “No, no, don't tell me, I'll figure it out myself. As for what happened, It’s not urgent, I was just sent so you wouldn’t be blindsided when you arrive at the Fort; there’s a new resident, another Sky.”

“Oh?” That's… definitely _interesting_ , but whether it’s the good kind or the bad kind will have to wait until he’s met them. 

Vongola already has a truly absurd number of Skies in residence, with him, his brothers, his father, and that CEDEF toady flittering in and out. Plus, Enrico’s youngest is showing behavioral signs consistent with a Sky primary. That makes _seven_ under one roof, all of them men; that’s six and a half more than any reasonable Family expects to handle at any one time.

Skies are a tricky subject; while they’ll consolidate and stabilize a Family like no other Flame type, the conflict between Skies is _devastating_. If you’re lucky, they'll get along and have no trouble co-existing, but if you’re not?

Like Clouds, they can be fairly territorial, if over people rather than places. The more Skies you put in a room together, the more risk you have of someone getting caught in between, either crushed between two contrasting Wills or pulled to breaking point while being Courted. 

That’s what had happened to his lightning Leviathan; Federico and Massimo had both been in search of a good Lightning and squabbling over something else besides. 

The Castiglione Lightning had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and had been caught in a Flame-based tug-of-war and had been badly damaged by the experience. Xanxus had happened to pass by and had come to his rescue, throwing one brother out a second-story window and planting a knee into the other’s chest.

He had stepped over his wheezing sibling and escorted the man out of the building and to the Varia’s medics. 

Leviathan had apparently imprinted on him at some point in the process and had refused to leave. Don Vongola had been so pleased by his ‘diplomatic’ solution that he hadn't even been punished for Massimo’s broken ankle. 

The Fort had shortly thereafter reached an equilibrium, and squabbles had died off, the brothers apparently realizing they’re grown adults, and the fact that a 15 year old having better self-control and manners than them is deeply embarrassing. His father may have done something privately to deal with them, but he doubts it. He’s never been a proactive Don, preferring to let others fight it out and then deal with the aftermath.

The appearance of a rogue element might destabilize the whole thing again and that’s a headache he is _not_ interested in dealing with.

If he's lucky, this new Sky will be uninterested in petty squabbling. If he's not, then he'll have to find a way to 'discourage' them from staying and being a pain in his ass. 

On that note, he prays it’s a girl; girls are less aggressively territorial in his experience, Skies or no. The Giglio Nero Donna and his Nonna both did more for the stabilization and Harmony of Alliance than any ten other Dons, and none of his mother’s sisters in trade had the time or interest for petty squabbling beyond the rare flare of hot Italian tempers over small and petty things. His mother had been very good at soothing those, one way or another.

"Whoever it is, the Don's got info on lockdown, none of our people have got a look at her yet, though we’re pretty sure it _is_ a female, our guy inside the CEDEF says they overheard the External advisor mention a ‘Principessa’ when discussing security and there were no women with Vongola lineage in residence before this.”

“Acknowledged,” he confirms. “Tell Viper I'll poke around tonight and tomorrow and I'll tell them what I know when I see them next.”

She salutes with one hand and he leans back in his seat. There goes that restful sleep he was hoping for. At least his rooms have a bar.

Tuman drops him in front of the Fort, hovering a few feet over the lawn instead of landing and earning the ire of madam Housekeeper by disturbing the grass. A delicate touch of Flame meant that the rotary blades are soundless, avoiding waking the entire building.

He extracts himself and drops softly to the grass. The wind of the blades tangles his hair, and he begins straightening himself out as he walks.

He ignores the man in the security station completely, opening his perception again to scan the building for anything that pings him as distinctly ‘unfamiliar’.

It takes him a moment, sorting through such a mass of information, but he finds it. It’s in the family wing, which means they’re definitely some kind of blood-related; fosters and guests both sleep in different areas. 

The signature is very small, and for a moment he thinks it’s not quite Active, but no, it’s just tiny. A child, probably, or someone with some kind of dwarfism he supposes.

The closer he gets, the better a read he gets, and the less happy he is. Something about the little light strikes him as _off_ , but he’s only just learned this trick and he’s not completely sure-

He’s in the hallway her room is connected to before he finally recognizes the faint guttering flicker of _Bereavement_. He’s never seen it in a Sky, but now he’s identified it it’s unmistakable. He doesn’t know how it expresses in Skies, but in _Elements_ it can be a precursor to Bond Shock or even Discord. Support is vital for a quick recovery.

They’re completely alone in their rooms. 

With no hesitation, he uses a tiny careful sliver of the Storm that makes up his Wrath to disintegrate the lock on the door. If it’s a new development and hasn't yet been noticed, his father will forgive him. If it isn't, and the little Sky has been left alone, then someone is going to be dead and his father will have bigger things to bitch at him about than breaking a single replaceable lock.

He sees the tiniest, barest traces of Sky in the rooms - an unavoidable consequence of living in a space for an extended period of time - and a slightly stronger Storm presence, likely from whatever servant is keeping the room clean.

He recognizes it and scowls darkly. _Signora_ Lebedeva, a Latent Storm in the Housekeeper’s employ. Incredibly efficient, very focused in her work, but with all the empathy and emotional bandwidth of a block of ice. 

She’d once been assigned to his rooms as one of the few unafraid of his temper. As a Latent, there was no risk of something _unfortunate_ happening to a vulnerable and off-balance Sky, but also he wouldn’t trust her to watch a dog for more than a few hours, and only ever without other options. Not the kind of company he would inflict on someone with Bereavement. 

He shrugs out of his jacket as he jogs up the stairs, assuming the bedrooms will be in a similar place to those in his suite.

He finds the room housing those thrashing Flames and shoulders it open, making sure to make enough noise not to surprise whoever’s inside.

The little girl is mostly awake, sitting up to look at him with wide eyes. She doesn’t look nearly surprised enough about strangers bursting into her space in the middle of the night, which says a lot about her treatment since arriving that he doesn’t like.

He squats next to the bed so he’s not looming over her and wraps his jacket around her shoulders, tucking it around her and then sitting back. It probably doesn't smell the best, having been worn for most of his mission in the scorching heat, but it’s also saturated with his Flame and he’s not sure how receptive she is to being touched.

He needn't have worried. Her mouth drops open and her eyes go orange with some level of the Intuition - _another_ thing to worry about tomorrow - and she falls half off the bed as she throws herself towards him, clutching at his shirt and hair as soon as she’s in range to grab it. He catches her, standing to hike her up in his arms.

She’s absolutely tiny, he thinks four years old, and deceptively strong. He tries to shift her grip somewhere a little more comfortable and gives up. An interesting application of Harmony, he’s sure nothing short of a crowbar will make her let go before she’s good and ready. 

He makes a decision, adjusting his coat on her more securely and walking back down the stairs with her. She’s got her face shoved into his neck and her whole body is trembling under his hands.

She clearly needs someone competent and sympathetic to help ease her over the worst of it, so she can stay with him tonight. He’ll figure out what the fuck’s been happening while he’s been gone and who’s due for a raging bitch fit. 

If this girl is strongly enough a Vongola to have the Intuition at _four_ then she’s strong enough Vongola that he should have been _notified_ at the very least. He carries a secure satellite phone on missions for a _reason_ for fucks sake. There is _no excuse._

He’s been gone long enough for anything perishable in his little kitchen to have been long disposed of, and he wasn’t due back for a few days so there’s no way they've bothered to restock for him yet. He detours to one of the small general kitchens instead of heading straight to his room, because if there was ever an occasion for his mother’s hot chocolate it is now.

He’s not getting his arm back any time soon, so he grabs a tray out of the cupboard to carry things on. He snags a glass bottle of milk, a box of hard-boiled eggs, some bread, a plate of _Salumi_ and a tub of cut vegetables and hummus. He also sees a couple of boxes of leftovers that turn out to be white fish with lemon and capers and caramelized carrots. He steals them both, ignoring the names written on the tops in wax pen.

Carrying the laden tray is a bit tricky with one arm, but he manages. He has to put it on the floor while he opens his door but he makes it work. 

The fish and carrots go into a dish in the oven - _not_ the microwave, he learned that lesson years ago - and half the milk goes into a pot on the stove to warm. Everything else goes into the fridge except a pair of hard-boiled eggs - one is offered to his limpet and shyly taken and the other is eaten in two bites.

She’s stopped shaking quite so much, and instead of a white-knuckled grip on his shirt, she’s taken to petting his hair with one slightly sticky hand. It’s gotten a little long, he should let Lussuria at it when he visits headquarters the next day.

He mixes sugar, potato starch and cocoa into a cup of the remaining milk with a fork - grated _Modican_ chocolate not cocoa powder, he’s not a _savage_ \- pouring the resulting paste into the milk and stirring vigorously.

He brings it to a simmer until it thickens to his satisfaction then scoops out a couple of mugs with a ladle, carrying them and his freshly warmed dinner to the coffee table in the living room.

He sits in front of the table and perches her on a knee. He doctors one of the cups with a little raspberry liqueur and the other with a splash of Irish cream from the bar, letting her pick between the two. She sniffs them both and then picks the raspberry, sipping tentatively.

He offers her a second fork and she pokes halfheartedly at a carrot. She’s remarkably quiet, hasn't said a word to him since he’s picked her up. He wonders if her family believed in the ‘only speak when spoken to’ style of parenting, or if this is an effect of whatever trauma had landed her with the Vongola. 

Her Flames seem to have stabilized greatly with positive physical contact, which either says encouraging things about her recovery or terrible ones about her treatment before this. Lussuria will be able to tell him, probably.

When he’s slightly less ravenously hungry and she’s had at least a third of her hot chocolate, he tries to carefully press her for information.

“So, what should I call you, princess?” he asks, petting her hair gently.

She screws up her face and for a second and he thinks she’s going to cry.

“My name is _Sawada Masako_ -” she enunciates carefully, “-it is very nice to meet you, Sir.”

The phrase, clearly rote memorization, is practiced enough that it’s hard to pick out her accent, but he’s fairly certain it’s something Asian. He’d learned Mandarin Chinese (with Mist assistance) for the Varia language requirement, then picked up some Japanese since he already had the kanji. Hopefully one of them will be useful here.

“ _Nǐ huì shuō hànyǔ ma?_ ” he tries, “ _Nihongo?_ ”

She brightens immediately and starts nodding vigorously.

“Hai! Hai! Nihonjin desu!!”

Well that answers that question then.

 _“Onamae wa Zanzasu desu,”_ he says, smiling. “ _Dozoyoroshiku,_ Masako-chan.”

Aaaand, there go the tears.

Once she’s calm he tries questioning her again. She’s too wrung out to cry a second time so she hiccups her way through a basic explanation of her circumstances.

She rambles about a “Kyo-tan” and her mother who he presumes are the cause of the Bereavement. The fact that the two _aren’t_ dead is the only shock.

She falls asleep on his shoulder so he tucks her into his bed with his jacket and leaves again. 

Time to go wake up his father and yell at him. _Signora_ Ranieri isn’t going to like it, but she’s gonna have to _deal with it_ because there may still be bodies over this, he hasn't decided yet. If the man’s explanation is good enough his father may earn a minor ass-kicking instead of a knife somewhere painfully, _exquisitely_ lethal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Nǐ huì shuō hànyǔ ma? Nihongo?_ \- Can you speak Chinese? Japanese?  
>  _Hai! Hai! Nihonjin desu!!_ \- Yes! Yes! I'm Japanese!  
>  _Onamae wa Zanzasu desu,_ \- My name is Xanxus,  
>  _Dozoyoroshiku_ \- a shortened, casual version of "dozoyoroshikuonegaishimasu", which is used when introducing one's self and means something like "please take care of me". The linguistic equivalent to "nice to meet you" in English.
> 
> Modican Chocolate - A kind of cold-processed chocolate, similar to Mexican chocolate in texture, special to Modica, Italy. makes excellent hot chocolate, often paired with other flavors like cinnamon or Chili to make a more complex flavor. [The hot chocolate recipe I used for reference here.](https://lovesicily.com/blog/hot-chocolate-alla-modicana-nonna-elviras-recipe)
> 
>  **Note on the booze:** in case people are unaware, Italy has an incredibly relaxed cultural approach to underage drinking. specifically, it's incredibly common to have children as young as five years old have a small cup of wine with dinner, and that's not seen as odd at all. even beyond that, a small amount of flavored liqueur in hot chocolate (think 3/4 of a tablespoon in a large cup, max) is something even my American mother allowed me when I was 9 or 10, as it's such a tiny amount it's essentially harmless, and she was raised in a fairly straight-laced family.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have a question or happen to catch a mistake, feel free to chat at me in the comments or at my Tumblr. It might take me a bit but I answer everything eventually.
> 
> My main tumblr is [here](http://littlemisswingsandthings.tumblr.com) but if you only want to chat about/get updates one my work here, feel free to HMU [here](http://quinsvaloria.tumblr.com).


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